A letter to Alex Bhak on his birthday

You’ve changed my life here at Tufts and I am so grateful

Hey Alex,

I just wanted to write you a birthday card for you after reading what you wrote for me back in October. You know I’m bad at talking about my feelings, etc., but I’ll give it a go this time, for you.

First of all, before I can begin to be all soppy, I just need to let you know that I’m pretty pissed at you. I was waiting outside Olin today at 7pm sharp. I looked around, spammed your texts with the usual “oi” and a couple of other insults that I can’t publicize on the web. I assumed you were sitting with Hisaam at Carm again, eating just before the workout. This is something I still don’t understand, how can you stuff your face before we hit the gym? Anyways, I waited around for a while, looked outside of Carm and since I couldn’t spot your bum ass in your blue hoodie and sweatpants anywhere, I decided to head to the gym alone.

I hope you didn’t mind.

It was pretty weird, getting to the gym without you. When I first got there, I took off my hoodie and just assumed you had already found us a bench. Forgetting that I was there alone, I walked over to a bench and made sure to mark my territory, just like you taught me. I grabbed the four-pound stick and started stretching my shoulders, because I know the next time I see you, you’ll be sure to ask me if my shoulder mobility has improved – or am I still a “little bitch.” (Your words not mine.)

Anyways, I started doing the usual, except I had no idea what the “usual” was. I’m too used to just relying on you to tell me what to do and how many sets we have left. I’ll have you know that I beat your deadlift personal record, yet again, so at least there is that. I won’t say how much it is because I know you’d be embarrassed. I have to admit I was kind of bummed you weren’t there to record me doing it and then give me the middle finger when I succeeded.

It really hit when I started doing biceps. I decided to do some “buddy curls”, but, as you know, buddy curls are pretty hard to do without a “buddy”. And again on the last exercise, “random selection” (I’m pretty sure you just made this thing up because I’ve never heard about this before) you weren’t there to really torture me and select the weight you knew I could lift. At least I was able to cut myself some slack and take it easy. For a moment I was kind of happy you hadn’t shown up to Olin today, because unlike the inhumane three hours you make us spend at the gym, I was able to get away with an hour.

Now that I’m done whining about how rude you have been, I guess we should get to the whole celebrating part of your birthday.

You said you couldn’t wait for all the “escapades to come,” and we can get to that later – but for now, what a better escapade to reminisce on than that interesting night at Zeta? After your shitty wingmanning failed, we concluded that the night was over. We tried heading out through the basement, but when we realized that it was completely empty except for a speaker and an aux cord, we decided that the night should begin then and there.

You plugged in your phone and started dancing to Fetty, and since there was no one else to witness, I joined in. You know I don’t dance, ever, but somehow you got me to. And it was one of the best nights ever. We just danced, did impressions of Weezy, and called it a night.

I’ve been thinking we could chill in my room before heading out. Before you start whining about how my room is the “messiest room” you’ve ever seen, remember that you loved it the first time you walked in. You loved my Fight Club poster, and told me that you loved Batman once you saw my poster of the Joker.

And anyways, I’ve cleaned up. I spent like four hours today cleaning the room, while listening to the sick JBiebs “Love Yourself” mix and your entire Sound Cloud playlist. Yes, it did take ages, but I guess cleaning the room was the least I could do. Besides, I’d rather just clean my own room and host because I’m too lazy to go uphill to Miller for this thing.

I’m hoping we can just chill here, listen to the music (Yes, you can be the designated DJ) and see how it goes from there. Also, I know you wanted Dom for your birthday but I don’t know if I’m down to sell a kidney, so you might just have to settle for some cheap champagne instead.

Well, this has turned out to be a pretty terrible birthday letter. So far I’ve just scolded you for ditching me at the gym, talked about a frat party and whined about how you made me clean up my room. So I guess I’ll be nice for a bit.

Dear Alex,

I’m so beyond happy that I met you on that first day at the gym. You came up and said hello to me later that same day, and I had no clue that you would end up being such a big influence in my life. One day at the gym without you felt strange, and I hope I won’t have to go another day without you, Sensei.

You really are one of the greatest guys I’ve ever met. You’re genuine, funny, happy, and buff.  You’ve changed my life here at Tufts and I am eternally grateful. We’ve been through some weird shit together and it makes me crack up just thinking about the times we’ve had. My favorite was probably the 10 minute conversation we had that day before heading over to the party at Powderhouse about whether we should wear tank tops or not. I love how we both make fun of Hisaam for wearing gloves at the gym, mocking Harrison for his ‘pledging’ so he couldn’t show up (when really he was probably just skyping his girlfriend,) giving Cody that look when he burps at 400 decibels, how Max has unusually huge forearms (we know from what) and how Alvaro is not the brightest of the bunch.

I hope you have an incredible birthday, bro. And I really mean it when I say, I love you dude.

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